


Fight-or-Flirt

by breadandoranges



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 13:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadandoranges/pseuds/breadandoranges
Summary: Like a surprisingly large number of Achilles' sexual encounters, this one started with a threat of violence.Achilles/Emiya Archer. Mentions of Cu Chulainn/Emiya and Achilles/Chiron.





	Fight-or-Flirt

Like a surprisingly large number of Achilles’s sexual encounters, this one started with a threat of violence. 

Cocky, self-assured, and more than a little reckless, he was used to rubbing people the wrong way upon first meeting. But, due to his good-natured flirting and overall persistence, it was usually only a short time before he was started rubbing them the right way (often times literally). 

Maybe that’s why he was prone to a fight-or-flirt response in potentially troublesome situations. Like feeling the familiar bone-stretching sensation of being summoned into a grail war. It was the latter of the two responses that decidedly won out when a blinding blue light faded to reveal a young, red haired women in a white coat flanked by two primary coloured, impressively muscled servants. They didn’t seem like enemies though, and Achilles thought he was a pretty good judge of character. 

“I am Achilles, a servant of the rider class. Am I to assume you’re my master, beautiful?” Said with the most charming grin he could muster. 

Oh, flirt was definitely the right choice. The girl’s face glowed a lovely shade of red, her mouth opening and closing slightly but seemingly unable to produce speech. Achilles noticed a small upturn of the blue servants mouth, eyeing the master with a look of endearment; was this a quirk the girl did often? 

Because their master was unable to, it was the blue servant who spoke. “Welcome to Chaldea, mate. The short of is: the world’s fucked and Gudako here is gathering as many servants as possible to attempt to un-fuck it. I’m Cu Chulainn, lancer class, and this gorgeous fellow is—“

“Archer. I don’t simply throw my name around like some, hero of Greece”

First impression: Cu Chulainn was a total bro (and at least bi; no man that had hair down to his ass and wore blue tights could possibly be straight). Archer, on the other hand, was harder to read. Cu, was right, he truly was striking, all hard lines and muscled skin and snow white hair. The two seemed to have some sort of unspoken thing between them; Achilles has noticed the slight blush on Archer’s face when the blue lancer had complimented him. 

“What’s a name between friends?” This time, Achilles directed his smile towards Archer; it had effectively silenced Gudako, so maybe it would do the same to the red servant. 

“We are hardly even allies, Achilles, just two poor bastards the world chose to stop itself from committing suicide. With a name as famed as yours, I would keep it to yourself. Now that I know your weakness, what’s to stop me from stabbing your heel while you sleep?”

Fight or flirt? With a set up like that, Achilles’ choice of response was easy. 

“Hey, if you want to come to my bedroom at night, no need to use heel-stabbing as a pretense.” Achilles smirked. 

Archer narrowed his eyes, while Cu barked out a laugh and put one arm around the red servant’s shoulders. Whether to comfort him or aggravate him further, Achilles wasn’t sure, but he’d guess the latter. 

Gudako, who had finally found her voice, took the mostly empty threats/offers of bedding in stride; which is to say she ignored them completely. But Achilles didn’t miss that she seemed to purposefully gesticulate with her left hand, the one baring the command seals, while she and her two bodyguards toured him through the facility. 

Clearly Gudako’s threat wasn’t explicit enough, as Archer did show up at Achilles room that night.

“Huh. Didn’t think you’d actually come. Suppose I should give my devastating charm more credit.” Achilles wore his most shit-eating grin, which resulted in Archer rolling his eyes like a thirteen year old girl. 

“Please don’t. It’s simply a matter of there being far too many men who’d stab you through the heart before they’d even consider fucking you.”

Achilles winced slightly at this. He was lucky that his time was one of few that excepted relations between men. Even so, they were primarily supplementary; some nonsense that sticking your dick in another man’s ass would make you a better soldier or philosopher or judge. Achilles was sure his relationships with men had no effect on his ferocity as a warrior. 

“What about Ireland’s Child of Light?” Achilles was delighted to see a little sheen of rose touch the other man’s cheek. If they weren’t both fucking now, they definitely would be soon with a reaction like that. “You both reek of sexual tension. You mean to say you aren’t bedding him?”

“I’m not here to talk about the Hound of Ulster. I’m her because you made an offer, and I intend you take you up on it. Or was that in jest?”

Heh. Achilles definitely hit a nerve bringing up Cu, and made a mental note to pester Archer with that later. But the other man was right; this wasn’t the time. 

For the second time that day, Achilles gave Archer a proper look. He was certainly striking; unnaturally white hair complimented dark caramel coloured skin. The coupling was strange, certainly not an Ethope, but not quite a Cretan or Easterner either. He wore a tight, black sleeveless shirt and gods was his chest marvellous. It was the kind of chest he’d gladly stare at, glistening with sweat as he thrus—

Achilles must have been staring for a bit too long, because a shit eating smirk to rival his own appeared on Archer’s face. He had half a mind to stuff that mouth full of cock just to wipe it away. 

“Like what you see?” Archer quipped. 

“Hmm, I suppose it’ll do.” In all honesty, Archer was one of the more attractive men Achilles had ever invited to his bed. He vaguely reminded him of a slave he used to bed now and then. A Cretan who wore the same style of cocky arrogance and would tease and quip even with a cock shoved balls-deep up his ass. The rest of the generals thought the reason Achilles chose this slave so often was to force him into submission. Quite the opposite, really; he was one of the only slaves who wouldn’t submit. Even though Achilles made it clear they could as say no (he wasn’t a rapist, even though none of his contemporaries would have considered an act, especially against a Trojan prisoner, as such), the Cretan was the only one who would. So Achilles knew that when he did say yes, it was because he desired him, and not because he desired to avoid the whip. Archer was the same; Achilles could tell that if he was going to submit, it was because he wanted to be dominated, not that he feared it. 

He was no Patroclus though, but very few men could even come close. 

Lost in thought, Achilles had realized that he had been caught ogling Archer again, only roused from the mental image of settling in between Patroclus’s thighs by a low chuckle. Damn. Wiping the smirk off of Archer’s face with cock kept becoming a more and more tempting option. 

Not to lose the literal upper ground, Achilles got up from sitting on his bed, slowly striding towards the other man. Archer’s grin only widened, but Achilles saw a slight blush, the same that had appeared when he mentioned Cu Chulainn, touch his cheeks. 

Because he blushed like a maiden, Achilles decided to treat him like one; he slowly decorated Archer’s arm and back with feather-like touches, only leaning in to brush his lips against the other man’s in what could barely be called a kiss. 

Well, that didn’t last for long. As soon as Achilles’s lips touched Archer’s, something in the other man seemed to snap. Archer violently pulled Achilles hair and forced him into the most bruising of kisses and gods did this man have a lot of pent up sexual energy. He’d have to make sure the Hound of Ulster got on the receiving end of this, because if he was being truly honest with himself, Achilles was pretty sure he was simply a stand in. No bother to him though; Archer was turning out to be an incredible lay. If Achilles was simply a way to scratch an itch, then he’d me more than willing to do just that. Besides, the image of Archer and Cu together was more than enough to get his cock hard, and if Achilles got stuck in the middle of that, well . . . 

Archer’s hand tugged at Achilles’ hair again, separating their kiss so Archer could mouth at the other man’s neck. Achilles let out a growl; although he didn’t mind submitting on occasion, this was definitely not one of them. 

With one fluid motion, Achilles turned the two around, slamming Archer’s back into the wall. Archer let out a surprised moan. Ah, so that’s what he likes. Using one of his own hands to hold both of Archer’s above his head, Achilles removed the sash on his armour and effectively tied the captive wrists together.

Heh. And Chiron always said his sash was just a useless fashion accessory. This would show him. 

Before Achilles’s mind could wander to what actually showing Chiron would look like (that fantasy, which had admittedly lived in the recesses of his brain since he was fifteen, was one for a different day), he stopped to take in Archer’s face. 

There was clearly a battle going on there, between the forces of wanting-to-maintain-his-arrogant-high ground and wanting-to-moan-like-a-submissive-little-whore. Well, Achilles had fought and won countless wars in his time, and he’d be damned if he lost this one. 

“I suppose I should have expected the great Achilles wouldn’t take well to dominance.” Nuh-uh. Achilles wasn’t letting the enemy forces get the upper hand. 

Keeping Archer’s wrists bound tightly above his head, Achilles leaned in to lightly nibble the other man’s ear. 

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t know anything about your legend, Nameless Archer. But I can tell you’re the type of guy who loves to be utterly fucked, used, but is too proud to admit it. So how about we make this better for both of us and you wipe that smirk off your face and let out those moans I know you’ve been holding in, hmm?” Achilles punctuated his speech by grinding his clothed erection against the other man’s and fuck was he hard. Maybe Achilles was taking this teasing thing a bit too far.

Archer’s whole body shuddered, and if Achilles didn’t still have their dicks pressed together he would have sworn the other man came. Achilles let out a sharp laugh; ah, he’d been right on the money, hadn’t he? 

Moving his mouth away from Archer’s ear, Achilles stepped back to look at his impromptu bedmate’s face. The arrogance was still there (Achilles guessed that a guy like this would never let himself vulnerable enough to have it fully leave), but his tan skin was flushed beautifully, and his mouth was slightly open from panting. 

For no less than the third time in the span of about ten minutes, Achilles mused that that mouth would look great around his cock. In the end though, he decided on a different orientation. 

“Keep your hands up, darling.” Archer wasn’t fucked enough yet to resist rolling his eyes, but he did as he was told. 

Achilles had already thrown Archer’s coat off in a heap during their grappling session. Truly a nice piece of clothing, it would have been reserved for only lords and royalty in Ancient Greece. To be honest, the styling was pretty similar to something he’d remembered some of the more flamboyant noblemen wearing, but no one would be able to afford fabric of that colour in his time . Underneath was a tight black sleeveless top adorned with silver accents that, after Achilles inspection, served no other purpose than to highlight Archer’s muscles. Chiron would have had a field day with that, but Achilles silently praised Aphrodite for it. 

Before Achilles could curse the fact that he had tied the other servant’s wrists before taking off his shirt, Archer seemed to sense his dilemma and dematerialized the garment in question. Huh. What a surprisingly not-dickish thing to do. 

Archer’s chest was just as expansive as his shirt suggested, and Achilles took a moment to truly appreciate it. Like most warriors, it was littered with with scars. Achilles wasn’t sure if Archer’s battle wounds were more extensive than his own, or if they simply stood out more against his dark skin. Either way, the man had definitely seen his fair share of action. 

Kissing his way down Archer’s neck onto his chest, Achilles took one brown nipple into his mouth. Achilles grinned into the other man’s chest as he felt him shudder. He sucked each nipple as loudly and lewdly as possible, giving Archer a sneak peak of what was to come as he made his way further south. It wasn’t until Achilles let his teeth graze the bud, however, that Archer let out an audible moan. 

“Fuck, you sound amazing. I can’t wait to hear what sounds you make when I suck other parts of you.” 

Archer immediately switched from blissed out back to arrogant asshole and let out a dry laugh. “So eager.”

“Says the man whose cock is basically bursting out of his pants,” Achilles muttered as he dropped to his knees. 

Achilles will be the first to admit that he has received far more blow jobs than he’d given, but he was determined to break down Archer’s barriers, and good cocksucking seemed like just the way to do that. Besides, Patroclus had assured him that he gave great head (although Achilles had a sneaking suspicion he was just being nice).

He started by mouthing Archer’s cock through his pants, and all fears vanished when he let out an accidental gasp. Achilles grinned against the other servant’s crotch, glancing up to see Archer, red-faced and panting with his back arched off the wall and his wrists still bound above his head. Gods, when was the last time this guy was laid? He looked absolutely fucked. 

Deciding more teasing would just be cruel at this point, Achilles unzipped Archer’s pants and freed his cock from its confines. It was a good size and girth, heavy in Achilles’s hand as he gave it a firm stroke. Not quite as impressive as his own, Achilles thought with a tinge of pride. However, the thought, along with all thoughts really, left the rider’s head when his mouth finally connected with the other man’s cock and Archer let out a down-right pornographic moan. 

The sound only urged Achilles on (had that been Archer’s plan all along?), and he started sucking the other man with total abandon. 

“Ah . . . Achilles, wait.” Hmm. Not quite the tone he’d wished to hear his voice said in (it would have been better screamed), but the rider obliged by disconnecting from Archer’s cock with a lewd pop. 

“Wouldn’t it be more pleasurable for the both of us if I could touch you?” He could, of course; the only thing keeping his hands bound was Achilles’s sash, and a simple tug would be enough to undo it. The fact that Archer didn’t do just that, and instead asked Achilles permission, made his decision pretty simple. 

“Hmm. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” Achilles underlined his statement by licking along the base of Archer’s cock, earning another quite moan. 

“Perhaps you’d like to change places then.” Well, that would finally quench Achilles’s desire to know what the other man’s mouth felt like. But it wasn’t what he had in mind. 

“As much as I’d love to fuck your mouth, I have another spot in mind. Turn around.” Archer did as he was told, turning to rest the side of his face and hands against the wall. His back was curved and his ass was sticking out deliciously and fuck it took all of Achilles’s will not to take him right now.

“Gods” Achilles breathed, eliciting a low chuckle from the other man. Achilles wasn’t sure sure who was dominating whom at this point, but he couldn’t give even one fuck with Archer looking looking like that. 

Staying on his knees, Achilles used his hands to spread the other man’s cheeks. He giggled inwardly; although he should have expected it from having his face in Archer’s crotch moments before, it still struck him as funny that even his anal hair was white. 

Silly thoughts aside, Achilles inched his face closer to the other man’s opening until his hot breath ghosted over it. He was fucking delighted to see the little hole twitch in response. 

“You’re cunt is twitching for me. I take it you’ve been wanting this for a while, huh?” 

“How about you put that mouth to a better use,” Archer deadpanned, and it was Achilles’s turn to chuckle. Ah, he’d fuck that last bit of arrogance out of him yet. 

If Achilles was average at blow jobs, he was an utter novice at rim jobs. He’d only ever given them to Patroclus, and even then it was few and far between; he wasn’t just going to lick any random guy’s ass. Well, he’d only known Archer for about eight hours, but meh, semantics. 

Achilles tentatively flicked the other man’s hole with his tongue. Archer let out another beautiful moan; Achilles wasn’t quite sure whether they were involuntary or for the rider’s sake, but the incessant twitching of Archer’s opening seemed to suggest the former. 

Like most things in life, Achilles ignored things like “prior knowledge” and “qualifications” and employed the tried and true “fake it ‘til you make it” technique. It seemed to be working; Archer’s moans had grown more high pitched (he’d definitely be teasing him about that later), and his thighs had started trembling, and was he close? Just from having his ass licked? Gods, Achilles was either a lot better at eating ass than he thought or he needed to have a very long talk with Cu. 

“Achilles, wait, I need it . . .” Well, that went without saying. But still . . .

“Hmm? Sorry, I don’t quite know what you’re getting at.”

The venom in Archer’s glare was diluted slightly by his overall blissed out and lust drenched appearance. Achilles grinned up at him, using one finger to gently tease his hole, his saliva providing enough lubrication to let him slip one knuckle in. 

“Ah, I need you to fuck me.”

Achilles cock strained uncomfortably against his pants, and it was only then that he realized he was still fully clothed. Archer had already dematerialized all his clothing (save his red coat, which was still where Achilles had thrown it earlier) what felt like ages ago. As easy as blinking, Achilles stopped the flow of mana that kept his clothing physical, the fabric and armour dissolving into blue dust and leaving the rider fully nude. 

Achilles wiggled his index finger in further, but soon realized after a pained hiss from the other man that spit wouldn’t be enough. 

“Hey, you didn’t happen to bring any—“

“Coat pocket” Archer grunted. Ah, so that’s why it hadn’t dissolved with the other clothing. Achilles got up off his knees and retrieved the small bottle of lube, vaguely wondering if there was an apothecary in this facility that he hadn’t seen on the tour. Or maybe a sex shop. 

Now fully lubed, Achilles stuck the same finger in and went about trying to find that spot. Where was it again? Patroclus’s had been slightly up and to the right—

“Ahhh!” Oh, there it was. True to his name, Archer arched beautifully, thrusting his hips back to get Achilles to go deeper. The other man’s cock was unbelievably erect and dripping, and Achilles would have felt bad about not tending to it if he didn’t think Archer would come the moment it was touched. 

Achilles added a second finger, then a third, making sure to intermittently brush by Acher’s prostate. When he deemed the other servant adequately stretched, Achilles lubed up his own neglected member and positioned it at the other man’s entrance. 

“Ready?” 

“Please, Achilles . . .” Ah, if that didn’t go straight to his cock. In one fluid motion, Achilles eased his way into Archer, stopping when he was at the hilt to give the other man (and himself) time to adjust.

Apparently that grace period wasn’t needed though, because Archer immediately started grinding his hips back and forth. 

“Fuck.” Losing all semblance of rational thought, Achilles grabbed Archer’s hips with a bruising grip and started fucking him into the wall. Archer moved against him, pressing his ass against Achilles’ hips to push him in deeper, but also moving to rub himself against the wall between thrusts. Why wouldn’t he just . . . ? 

Oh, right. Archer was still holding his bound hands above his head, and it took all of Achilles’ willpower not to come right then (but damn, he wouldn’t be able to last much longer). Even though Achilles could tell Archer got off on submitting (and the rider definitely got off on watching him submit), it was about time he earned his freedom. 

Achilles slowed his thrusts and jerked Archer’s hair back, twisting his neck to claim the other man in a rough kiss. When their lips separated Achilles whispered, “shall we move this to the bed?”

Achilles punctuated his question with a deep thrust, making sure to scrape across the other man’s prostate as he did. Archer moaned his approval, and Achilles all but threw the servant onto his back on the small bed. Archer took it in stride, spreading his legs and tilting his pelvis up to reveal his stretched, pink hole. 

Aphrodite, give me strength. 

After re-lubing his dick, Achilles used the head to tease said hole. Before entering, however, he leaned forward and took a hold of his sash, freeing Archer’s hands with one swift tug. “I guess you’ve earned the right to touch me.”

Archer immediately took full advantage of the privileges heretofore denied him by tugging the rider into a violent kiss. Achilles thrust into the other servant, breaking their kiss to hitch Archer’s legs onto his shoulders. 

As much as he would have liked to make Archer come without touching his cock (and Achilles truly believed he’d be able to considering the other man’s completely fucked expression), he took pity and wrapped his hand around the dripping member. 

It only took about a dozen strokes and a perfectly timed thrust into Archer’s prostate before the man was spraying come across his own chest. 

“Ah-Achilles . . .” Well, fuck. It wasn’t quite a scream, but it was enough to speed the rider’s thrusts until he spilled his seed inside the other man with a loud, unintelligible moan. 

Before he could collapse on top of his bedmate, Achilles removed himself from that unholy tight heat with a groan and rolled to the side. Beside him, Archer was still coming down from his high. The sight was absolutely pornographic: Archer, legs spread and chest heaving, glistening in sweat and covered with his own semen, with Achilles’ slowly dripping its way down his thighs. Even though Achilles knew he was far too drained to go another round, his cock still twitched at the image. 

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and Archer’s mask of arrogant indifference reappeared on his face as he got up from the bed to clean himself off in the small adjoined bathroom. 

When Archer re-emerged into the main room, he had already materialized his clothes and was reaching for his balled-up coat.

A still-naked Achilles full-on pouted. “What, no post-coital cuddling?” 

Archer chucked dryly in response. “I wouldn’t have taken you as the cuddly type, hero of Greece.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And there’s even more I don’t know about you. Like your name, for one.” 

Archer stiffened a bit at the accusation, and he seemed to think about his response before relaxing his shoulders and turning back towards Achilles. 

“Shirou Emiya.”

Before Achilles could respond with further questioning, or even a short “never heard of you,” Archer was already out the door.


End file.
